


A Nightmare

by magpiesandmabari



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: AU, Dragon Age: Origins Quest - Broken Circle, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpiesandmabari/pseuds/magpiesandmabari
Summary: Surana finds herself meeting an old friend and a sweet dream turns into her own personal hell.





	A Nightmare

 

  
"Yana..."  
  
"Mmff."  
  
"Yaaanaaaaa~!"  
  
_"No."_  
  
There was a giggle; soft and girlish, the bed creaking slightly as Ruth crawled closer, leaning over her and slowly pulling back the layers covering her face. Dark eyes squinted at her in mock-disgust. Ruth looked at her evenly, shaking her head with an exasperated sigh.  
  
"You can't hide in there all day!"  
  
"I think I'm doing a good job of it right now." Yana grumbled, moving to pull the heavy blankets back up, stopped by Ruth's hand closing around her wrist.  
  
" _Come on!_ It's so pretty outside, it'd be such a shame to miss it."

Yana grimaced.  
  
"It's just snow...it comes around every year."  
  
"Please? For me?" Bright green eyes wide and pleading, lips rounded into a slight pout.  
  
Yana sighed heavily, reluctantly nodding as she raised her arms for Ruth to pull her up. She wasn't about to make this easy for her, after all.  
  
Ruth beamed, reaching out to brush her hair out of her eyes, Yana's gaze dropping shyly to her lap while she willed herself not to blush. It was still so new, this closeness. She could hardly believe it, that years of pining had come to a head with a breathless confession and a kiss stolen in the library one night.

Slowly, she looked up as she felt a warm hand on her face, thumb caressing her cheek tenderly. It felt so real. It had to be.

_Why wouldn't it be?_

Yana's brow furrowed for a moment, an odd, nagging feeling that she couldn't quite place the reason for settling in the pit of her stomach.

“What are you thinking about?” Ruth asked softly, jerking Yana suddenly out of her thoughts. The gentle smile that broke across the redhead's face when Yana's fingers closed around her wrist, replaced that unpleasant sensation with a heady rush of affection.

“Nothing.” Yana replied, leaning into her hand. There was a thoughtful pause, lips curled into a wry grin. “Well, aside from the fact that I'd much prefer to spend my day off _indoors_ with you.”

She patted the open space on the bed beside her, looking at Ruth with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. It would be quiet, after all. Though their quarters offered scarcely more privacy than the dormitories, most of the apprentices would be out frolicking in the snowy grounds under the watchful eye of the Templars, while the less inclined mages and Enchanters would be no doubt gathered around the fires in the common rooms and drinking hot spiced cider while complaining bitterly about the draft blowing up their robes. (She knew, because she'd usually be right there with them.)

But today, Ruth was having none of it.

“Or,” She countered, shifting to wind soft, freckled arms around Yana's neck, resting her head on her shoulder. “We could go for a long walk and give you an excuse to warm me up afterwards?”

The elf chuckled, glancing down at her where she was met with a playful bat of long, dusky lashes. She nodded, leaning in to kiss her and let it linger; earning a soft murmur of approval from Ruth.

“Ohh, alright. You've convinced me.” She sighed against Ruth's cheek, the other woman sitting up excitedly.

“But I'm holding you to it, y’know.”

“That _was_ the idea,” Ruth said with a slight purr, tracing her jaw with a finger and pecking Yana on the lips before dragging her out of bed to get dressed, her love staring after her longingly.

-

It wasn't an uncommon sight for close girlfriends in the Circle to walk about arm in arm, though Yana still couldn't shake the nervous feeling that they were conspicuous to the people they passed by.

When she mentioned this concern, Ruth simply shrugged.

“So? Let them look.” She drew a hand from her fur muff, tilting Yana's chin up and smiled. “What business is it of theirs?”

Yana felt herself melt under her gaze, grinning foolishly back at her. Perhaps she was right.

Settling against her side contentedly, Yana hugged her arm close as they continued to walk along the gritted path, under a clear winter sky that almost seemed too bright.

Bundled up in heavy, fur lined robes and knitted cowls, the younger apprentices dashed about madly amidst the fray of a snowball fight on what would usually be the immaculately kept lawns, squealing and laughing in a way they weren’t usually permitted in the austere study halls of the Tower. A rare opportunity to actually enjoy being children, rather than a danger to be kept hidden away from the rest of the world.

It even drew a smile from the knight stood sentinel nearby, who nodded shortly at them as they passed, bristling slightly at their knowing grins.

“You know,” Yana began, looking around curiously as the space around them emptied and the children's voices grew quiet as they went further along. “I'm surprised I haven't seen Damien out here trying to melt a snowman or something.”

Ruth stopped, turning to look at her with an odd expression. “ _Damien?_ ”

Yana nodded slowly. “You think he wouldn't relish spoiling the little ones’ fun?”

“Oh, without a doubt. If he were still _alive_ …”

And there it was again; that sickly, slithering feeling from earlier.

_I shouldn't be here._

Ruth's incredulous expression softened almost immediately and she slipped a comforting arm around her. “Don't you remember, love?” She murmured, pressing her cheek to Yana's forehead. “He never made it past his Harrowing. He can never hurt you again.”

But...that couldn't be right. When she left the Tower, she distinctly remembered him watching from the dormitory, scowling with his arms folded as she'd finally escaped his torment.

She shook her head, distracted.

When she _left_ the Tower? When had she ever…?

Hazy images started to form in her mind, jumping from frame to frame and making her feel dizzy. There was a man, dark skinned and dressed in strange armor...he seemed important, though why, she didn't know.

“Yana?” Ruth nudged her, Yana gritting her teeth as her stomach lurched; body sensitive to the slightest touch. “You've gone dreadfully pale, pet. Perhaps we ought to get you back inside?”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she nodded.

“Yes, maybe...maybe I should lie down.”

Ruth nodded encouragingly, gently leading her back towards the Tower. All the while, new images flickered behind her closed eyes; battered, bloodied bodies of mages and Templars alike, an empty bunk and another man, with shaggy black hair and kind brown eyes.

A name rose on her tongue.

“Jowan,” She croaked. “Where...where's Jowan?”

This time, Ruth didn't stop, urging her on instead. “Jowan?” She repeated with a harsh scoff that seemed so unlike her. “That pathetic excuse for a Tranquil who's always skulking around? Why on earth would you want anything to do with _him_??”

She sighed, almost irritably. “You're not making any sense, love.”

No. _This_ didn't make any sense.

Another memory came to her; the three of them, younger and laughing together. It felt familiar, comforting. How could Ruth be so callous about their old friend? Despite the fact that her head was swimming and she felt like she was going to wretch with every step she took, Yana tried to focus.

There was her, and Jowan and...and...a flower? _Lily_ . They were looking for something important; _blood_. His phylactery. Yes, it was becoming clearer- the throbbing in her temples worsening- the journey through the basement, destroying the vial only to be caught by Irving and Gregoir.

But Jowan had escaped, not been made Tranquil.

They reached the heavy doors of the Tower, Ruth nodding to the Templars guarding them to open up, ignoring their suspicious glances at Yana's sickly face. A prickling sensation at the back of her neck told her if she walked through those doors, she was never leaving again.

“Wait,” She said thickly, patting Ruth's arm insistently. “I…I need to sit down.”

“I know, love,” She soothed, squeezing her waist with her arm a little too firmly. “That's why we should get you indoors-”

“No,” Yana insisted, shaking her head. “I’d rather stay out here. Fresh air.”

A faint flicker of anger crossed Ruth's face, but she obliged her, leading her to a weathered stone bench nearby. When she held Yana's hand, there was no longer the excitable flutter in her stomach; instead a cold, heavy sense of dread. Even her skin had began to lose its’ warmth, cold and clammy in a way that couldn't be blamed on the dry air outside. It was more like that of a corpse.

Because Ruth, _her_ _Ruth_ , should have been dead.

Yana clapped her hands to her mouth with a sudden gasp, letting go and edging away from her. It was over a year ago, now. Gone to her Harrowing never to return. It had devastated her; she'd loved her so much, even if she could never return her feelings in the same way.

This was nothing more than wishful thinking.

“Yana?” Ruth said softly, frowning as she watched her move away and tried to pull her back in. “Love, what is it? Talk to me.”

Yana quickly batted her arm away, stumbling slightly as she stood up. Ruth stared, eyes watering with hurt.

“You...you aren't real.” Yana breathed, staring hard at the ground. “You're dead.”

“ _Dead?!_ ” Ruth exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief as she got to her feet. “How could you say such a thing??”

“Because it's true,” Yana replied, voice low and flat. “You died. You were never in love with me.”

Desperately, Ruth rushed towards her, clasping their hands together and pressing them to her lips. Yana didn't back away this time, though flinched painfully at the gesture.

“Please, love. Stop saying such awful things- whatever it is that's gotten into you, I'll make it go away.”

Yana shook her head, mouth drawn into a thin line and trembling as she tried to hold back tears. “No,” She whispered, pushing Ruth away and turning from her. “You can't.”

“Yana, please-!” She sobbed, stricken. “Don't leave me!”

She didn't dare look back, walking unsteadily towards where the children were playing.

But something was wrong.

Where joyful laughter had been before, was now replaced by fearful whimpering and crying. She watched in horror as the children were penned in by a circle of advancing Templars, blades raised above their heads and reciting the Chant in deep, otherworldly voices.

_“_ _Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, champions of the just…”_

She quickly covered her eyes as their swords came swinging down in perfect sync, though the unmistakable sound of metal being cleanly run through flesh and terrified screams was enough to make her blood run cold. Something hot and wet landed on her.

Dropping to her knees, she slowly pulled her trembling hands away as the din died down, stomach churning in anticipation of the sight before her.

But there was nothing. No blood, no bodies. The snow undisturbed as if there had never been a herd of children scampering across it just moments before.

“It will happen with or without you, Yana.”

Ruth was stood behind her.

“The Annulment is inevitable. Do you truly wish to witness such suffering?” She said quietly, watching her with a cold, calculating stare as Yana got to her feet and turned around to face her.

“I-I have to _try_.”

“And yet you will fail. Grey Warden or no, you are but one woman standing against an army of my brethren.”

_Grey Warden?_

The man in the armor. Duncan. That's why she'd left the Tower; to become a Warden and fight at Ostagar. To defeat the Blight that was no doubt raging on in the outside world while she was wasting precious time in what she realised now, was the Fade, where they'd been trapped by the Sloth demon.

_The others...I have to get to them._

Ruth's face softened as she reached out a hand. “But stay here with me and you'll never have to suffer such a fate.”

Yana stood firm, shaking her head. “I don't make deals with your kind.” She spat, roughly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

A thin red brow arched. “Are you sure? There isn't another form you'd find more appealing?”

Her stomach dropped as Ruth disappeared in a swirling cloud of black smoke and was replaced by a taller, broader figure.

_Please, not him. Anything but him._

His splintmail clinked gently as he walked towards her, a lopsided grin spread across his face and amber eyes warm as he stopped in front of her.

“What about this?” He said softly, holding her chin between a finger and thumb and tilting her head back to look at him. “Would _this_ please you, my lady?”

“You're not him…”

“But I could be.” He murmured, drawing his face closer. “I could be all the things you want him to be.”

She shook her head faintly, breathing shallow as his lips brushed ever so lightly over hers, body tensing in anticipation of a kiss that she prayed would never come.

“Just give in, Yana.” He whispered, tenderly running his fingers through her hair. “Give in and he will be yours, forever.”

“No,” She gasped, desperately trying to turn away. “I don't…I don't want this!”

“Oh, but you do,” He cooed, holding her head firmly. “I can feel it. Every wicked thought you’ve ever had about him, the nights you've spent wondering what it would be like to be held in his arms...and I can give it to you.”

“Please...don't-!”

“Just let me in, _love_.” He murmured against her mouth and for a second, she let it happen. It was so wrong, but he was close enough to the real thing and her heart ached for the comfort, anything to get the ghost of Ruth out of her head.

But when his- _its’_ \- tongue pressed into her mouth, she recoiled in horror and shoved it away with a sudden burst of power that seemed to surprise them both, knocking it to the floor.

“Don't you _dare_ ,” She growled, palms still outstretched. “You know nothing of him or me.”

The demon sat up gingerly and tilted its’ head with an animal curiosity, eyes darkening.

“No?” It laughed curtly. “I know how much Lady Isolde's death has been eating away at you, afraid that he hates you now. I could change all that.”

She shook her head defiantly, blazing with anger.

“I refuse to be taken in by your lies anymore! I-If he hates me, then so be it!”

“Do you really believe that?” It asked, tone mocking.

Yana felt something heavy in her hand, glancing down to find her staff had appeared. Reassured, she lifted her head and fixed it with a steely glare.

_“I have to. ”_

Sighing heavily, the demon effortlessly sprang to its’ feet with a grace the real Alistair lacked. It tutted, shaking its’ head like one did before scolding a naughty child.

 “Stubborn little knife-ear bitch,” It muttered, cracking its’ neck in an unnatural, serpentine manner. “I think I'll enjoy killing you more than making you my servant. Pity, though.”

 She couldn't deny the sting of hearing those words in his voice, tears welling up, but kept her staff raised and ready in challenge.

  _It's not him. It's_ **_not_ ** _him._

 The demon raised its’ arms high above its’ head and was engulfed in another plume of smoke, emerging in its’ true form; horned with mottled purple skin, slender body naked save for the thin gold chains that crossed its’ chest.

  _Desire._ Of course it would be the one to seek her out, her sin abundant.

 “Come then, pretty morsel. Let us end this for good.”

 The demon was almost too quick for her at first, shooting a ball of flame from its’ hands which would have hit her clean in the face had she not extinguished it with a streak of ice.

 Cackling, it disappeared with a loud crack before surrounding her with a circle of identical copies of itself, each one dancing in midair with an oddly sensual, undulating sway. They grinned, mouths wide and cruel.

Then they viciously slashed the air in front of them with clawed hands, Yana falling to her knees with a pained gasp, feeling her energy being sapped away by the second.

 Struggling to stay upright, she leaned on her staff, looking around for any kind of hint as to which was the true creature, but found none.

 They were closing in, readying another spell when a thought came to her. Closing her eyes, she whispered an incantation of her own, focusing on her breathing alone. At least in such a place, it took little effort to draw on her mana; the pins and needles-like sensation quickly rising up from her feet and flooding warm through her whole body.

 Just as the demon and its’ decoys were only a few feet away, she raised her staff with a desperate battle cry and slammed it into the ground, a great wave of flame cast out in all directions.

 The demon screeched, the rest dissolving into the ether while it writhed in pain, engulfed by the fire. Yana took her chance, feeling the weakening spell lift and her strength slowly restored. She scrambled to her feet, aiming her staff at it and letting loose another volley of flame as she ran towards it.

 It lay prone on the ground, though not yet dead. Breathing raggedly, she nudged it with the tip of her staff and turned it over.

 Once again, Ruth was staring up at her; singed and bruised, tears streaming down her pale face. “Yana,” She said weakly, reaching out with a trembling hand. “Don't leave me. _Please_.”

 The staff was gently pressed under her chin.

 “I'm sorry.” Yana whispered, steadying her grip. Slowly, cracks began to form in the demon's body, burning embers glowing beneath as it crumbled into ash. A rattling gasp in Ruth's voice the last thing she heard before it faded away completely. She collapsed to the ground in a heap, the tower and the snow melting away to reveal the barren, twisted landscape of the Fade. But the ash remained, which Yana reached out to touch with shaking fingers.

It was still warm.

 


End file.
